


Be Nice to Me

by ActionGerard



Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:05:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActionGerard/pseuds/ActionGerard
Summary: WARNINGS:Explicit Language, Mild Violence (although that one was not explicitly stated), and cliché.NOTES:I, user ActionGerard, am sorry for all the damage I have caused. Now, back to our regular program. Title and inspiration taken from The Front Bottoms' song with the same title.





	Be Nice to Me

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNINGS:** Explicit Language, Mild Violence (although that one was not explicitly stated), and cliché.
> 
>  **NOTES:** I, user ActionGerard, am sorry for all the damage I have caused. Now, back to our regular program. Title and inspiration taken from The Front Bottoms' song with the same title.

It wasn't like there was something new about it, you know? It was just like the same old boring sad song being repeatedly played until his ears fell off, or a favourite summer blockbuster hit that he just grew out of. It wasn't something "life changing", so he couldn't really say he was surprised.

 

 _It wasn't about luck,_  he used to tell himself. Not when he managed to survive in the Upside Down for a week, and not even when he almost died, but lived anyway. It wasn't about luck. He didn't think so.

 

It wasn't about luck.

 

Until he thought that  _maybe_ , it was.

 

The town moved on, of course, despite the fact that what happened to him shook everyone.  _The town where nothing ever happens, sure,_  Will thought bitterly. It wasn't their fault, of course. 

 

His friends had moved on, faster than he would've thought, his family moved on - in a way - and he really wished he could say the same thing for himself.

 

He wished he wouldn't flinch every single time someone would raise their voice, wished he could stay long enough in the dark without crying for help, wished he could sleep with his lights on like any other person, and so on.

 

He wished he could pretend like nothing happened, like everything was back to normal.

 

_It wasn't about luck._

 

It was just... supposed to happen.

 

The demogorgon taking him, the mind flayer possessing him, Bob Newby dying, his brother moving away for college, Jim Hopper marrying his mom, him falling in love with his best friend.

 

It was just meant to be, he supposed. Although the last one hurt more than it should.

 

And just because it was meant to be didn't mean it didn't suck, right? Because he just had to watch himself fall for his best friend while his best friend falls for another girl, and he had no right to complain about it, because, hey, it was supposed to happen.

 

Sooner, Hawkins was just a whole blurry mess to him. A wild roller coaster ride, and it wasn't even one he was enjoying.

 

"You're awfully depressing this morning, pretty face," he heard someone said, making him roll his eyes. He already knew he was awfully depressing. He didn't need the reminder.

 

Glancing up, he was met with Mike's eyes, hiding behind framed thick glasses, new pair of awful clothes, and hair messier than usual. His heart may have skipped a beat.

 

"I thought you'll be at the Hopper's?"

 

"The Hopper's? Why'd I be there?" Mike looked at him, genuinely confused. "That Indiana cop gives me some  _bitchin'_  scare."

 

Will furrowed his eyebrows, because this? This wasn't Mike, all right. He knew it wasn't his Mike, but at the same time, it was. All long limbs and lanky figure and messy mops of hair. The freckles lining his face, as beautiful and intricate like always.  _It had to be._

 

"Looks like you've seen a ghost,"  ~~Not~~  Mike cackled, and even that sounded different in Will's ears, before saying, "Let me introduce myself. Richie Tozier, at your service."

 

Richie...  _What?_

 

Oh.

 

**_Oh._ **

 

"Oh, um. I thought you were someone else," Will muttered quietly before adding, "I'm Will. Will Byers."

 

"Nice meeting ya, Willy Billy." Richie said in a foreign accent, grinning madly as he offered, "How about we go get some ice cream to turn that frown of yours upside down, eh? What say you?"

 

Will chuckled, shaking his head a little, and replied, "Fine, but it'll be your treat."

 

"You wound me, William."

 

And hey, Will thought to himself. This... This was supposed to happen, right? It was a start of something new, after all. This was meant to be...

 

_Right?_

 

 

 °°°

 

 

Will found out about Richie Tozier.

 

He found out about Richie's parents and how they never really talked to him. He found out that Richie was from Derry and that he had a group of friends - more like family, really - that he kept contact with occasionally. He found out that he had kissed  _girls and boys_  - "Close your mouth, Billiam, you'll catch a fly," Richie snickered - and he found out Richie liked wearing colourful clothes, all together with his colourful words.

 

Most importantly, he found out Richie was a man of luck, and maybe that was where Will had argued.

 

"It's all a carnival of luck, Willington," Richie told him one night. "It was a matter of who life was fond of or not. You'd get stuck at the bottom if you don't fight for that luck. Something like... what's it - survival of the fittest? Of the  _luckiest._ " 

 

Still, Will wasn't convinced.

 

Richie found out about Will, too, more than Will would have allowed it. More than how he would've wanted.

 

Richie found out about his nightmares, about their shared traumas, about his constant fear because of his sexuality, about his friends, about... Just everything, really.

 

And hey, Richie didn't judge him for it, which counted as something good, right?

 

Richie also found out about the guy named Mike Wheeler.

 

"And he looks like you, you know," Will finished, sighing wistfully as he told Richie the legend of the one and only -  _the Mike Wheeler_. "It's just, it's pretty stupid."

 

"It's not stupid."

 

Because really, it wasn't. At least, Richie thought it wasn't. No matter how many times Will told him it was just a stupid little crush, something he would forget and laugh at Mike with eventually, a product of young infatuation and curiosity.

 

It was just something nonsensical and ridiculous and dumb. Something like,  _"Hey, Mike, remember when I had this huge crush on you when we were younger? How wild, am I right?"_

 

It would all pass away.  

 

It was supposed to.  

 

And Richie, he didn't think any if these were stupid. He didn't think Will was stupid. He didn't think what Will felt was stupid. He may have thought that Mike guy was stupid, but that was beside the point.  

 

"Hey, look," Richie said, looking at Will seriously. "Tomorrow, I want to meet your friends. Like, we've been hanging out for almost two weeks now and I haven't met any single one of these Mikes and Darwins and Lucases."  

 

Will looked at him oddly. "You're sure?"  

 

"I am."  

 

And if there was one thing Will Byers was scared of, it was a serious Richie Tozier. It rarely came, it rarely happened, so imagine his distress.

 

Imagine how all of that worsen upon the feeling of knowing Richie Tozier meeting Mike Wheeler for the first time.

 

Will, swallowing hard as he looked at Mike Wheeler's doppelganger - Richie's words, not his - exhaled, "Okay."  

 

It was supposed to happen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The moment Richie Tozier stepped in Hawkins, Indiana, he decided there were two things he couldn't quite understand about it.

 

One, those evil energy department laboratory people that had a strange fetish with alien dogs -  _demodogs_  - from hell.

 

And two, Michael fucking Wheeler.

 

He was Richie's evil doppelganger, was Will's best friend of some sorts (something that sucked, because Richie obviously already lost because of that one), was weirdly obsessed with some equally weird girl, and that he really fucking hated Richie.

 

Richie thought it was because of the  _charm_. If someone could resist it, after all, it was because of jealousy.

  


Richie Tozier met Mike Wheeler in an arcade, as  _cliché_  that sounded. To say Mike Wheeler was unimpressed was beyond understatement, and if Richie was being honest, he really couldn't fucking care less.

 

He just couldn't see the charm, and for all he knew, he looked  _better_  than this  _Mike guy_  despite Will telling him they looked pretty identical.

 

And Will, poor Byers kid, really. He was starting to question the kid's choices, because  _this?_  This Mike Wheeler guy just looked like an asshole to him.

 

 _Oh,_  and he was an asshole, personality-wise too.

 

"Do you think he can come sit with us at school?" Will asked excitedly, a glint of hope in his eyes as he asked Mike.

 

"That'll be cool!" Dustin exclaimed the same time Lucas said, "Yeah."

 

Richie pretty much loved them already.

 

Mike Wheeler, however, was a different news. He looked at Richie calculatingly -  _judgingly_  - as he muttered, " _I mean_ , I don't know. Our table is pretty much full already."

 

Richie snorted. "What's gotten your panties in a bunch,  _Wheela_?" 

 

_"Shut up!"_

 

"Guys," Will called out, sighing exasperatedly. Richie felt bad for him already. "Stop, please."

 

 _"No, Will,"_  Mike snapped, glaring daggers at his 'evil clone'. "You asked if we wanted to have him to join us and my answer is no, and that's  _final_. We can't have him with us. Our party is already having too much members."

 

Will's eyes widened in surprise.

 

And hey, this Mike guy was starting to pull on his strands, all right? This Mike guy was  _really testing_  him and he wasn't in the mood for all of  _these shit._

 

"What do you have against new recruits?" Dustin countered jokingly, before Richie was able to retort something.

 

 _"What?"_  Mike asked incredulously, obviously feeling betrayed by his friends.

 

"I mean, it wasn't like it wasn't real," Lucas shrugged. "First, it was Max, and now, Richie. It's really not cool, man."

 

"It's not like," Mike stammered, "I don't."

 

 _"It's not like that, I'm just being a jerk for no reason,"_  Richie mimicked Mike's stammering, obviously mocking him, before snorting, "Get on with it,  _Michael_."

 

"Shut up!"

 

 _" **Guys.** "_ Will snapped, causing everyone to keep quiet. It was apparent this side of Will was rarely - if never - seen.  _Hell,_  even Richie shut the fuck up when he heard it.

 

"He's coming with us,  _okay_?" Will stated, enunciating each word clearly, as if the others weren't capable of understanding it. "He's coming because he's _my friend,_  and  _that's it_."

 

Mike Wheeler looked like he was having a heart attack right there in the middle of loud arcade noises and chattering.  _Fucking golden,_  Richie really fucking loved Will Byers.

 

"Now if you'll excuse us," Will mumbled, switching back to the good ol' natured Byers kid, grabbing Richie's hands as they went out of the arcade, leaving the others in shock.

 

Richie was going to admit he loved the priceless look on Mike Wheeler's face as they left.

 

"Holy shit, Byers," Richie exclaimed once they were out in the streets, eyes widening comically as he continued, "I didn't know you had that fire in you, Jesus. You should've seen Wheeler's face, it's fucking golden."

 

"I think I overreacted out there," Will muttered, biting his lip anxiously. "What if they don't want to be friends anymore?"

 

"Don't be silly," Richie ruffled his hair, making him groan. "Of course, they want to be friends. And if they don't, well, I'm here, Willy Wild Billy. I'll marry you and have kids with you and love you forever. You'll be Mrs. Richie Tozier in no time."

 

"Shut up," Will laughed, bumping shoulders with Richie. "But, thanks."

  


See, Will was... he was  _something else_. He had these things - these smiles that took Richie to places he had never seen, these stories that gave Richie all the smiles he could never wear, all the fun and stupid stuffs like that. He loved it, as odd that sounded.

 

Will was this tragic summer blockbuster hit that no one liked watching, but was by far, Richie's favourite film. He was this song never played in the radio but played a hundred times in Richie's boombox. He was the last candle to be blown on a birthday cake, dull and insignificant and with completely no importance - but Richie knew that last one could make his wishes come true.

 

So, yeah, it was safe to say he was head over heels in love with the boy who came back from the dead, or whatever absurdity they liked calling him.

 

"Ah, yes. Can't help it I'm this awesome, it's in the genes, but you're welcome, Willard."

 

"I'm serious," Will chuckled. "Thank you for being my friend, I guess."

 

"Anything for you, Prince William," Richie pressed a kiss on Will's temple, grinning upon seeing the blush creeping up on Will's cheeks.

 

He pretended it was all fun and games, despite the tugging ache in his heart - something new, something good.

 

Because Will Byers, all sweetness and sarcasm tied with a ribbon, had this way of fucking him up more than his nightmares ever could.

  


It wasn't supposed to be heart-wrenching _\- in a good way -_ or soul crushing - _in a good way as well -_ or mind flipping.

  


But it was. 

 

 

°°°

 

 

_"You know, I don't like that Michael Wheeler much."_

 

Richie didn't know what came over him the moment he said it, obviously shocked when the words carelessly slipped out of his mouth. It wasn't like he really liked the Wheeler kid anyway - not liking him was a bit of an understatement - but he swore to himself he wouldn't say it out loud, especially not when Will would be able to hear it.

 

He just really thought that Michael guy was a spawn of Satan.

 

"I know," Will sighed, looking kind of upset upon hearing the revelation. "I mean, I just thought you guys would get along so well, you know?"

 

 _"Why?"_  Richie asked, genuinely confused. "Because we look alike?"

 

"No, silly," Will let out a quiet laugh. "It's because, well, you two are like my best friends in the whole world. It just sucks to see you guys not getting along."

 

"To be fair, he was an asshole."

 

"Richie," Will scolded lightly.

 

"I mean, it's true." Richie shrugged. "Don't know what you saw in him. I mean, he's just pretty much selfishness and ignorance intricately squeezed in one awkward body."

 

" _You_  have an awkward body," Will retorted, grinning.

 

"Not the point, bowl cut," Richie rolled his eyes, punching Will playfully. "I mean, what's with him? The unwashed hair? The lanky legs? I mean, I got those too but I don't see you swooning over me."

 

"It's not that," Will let out another sigh. "I mean, I don't know. It's complicated. It's just,  _it's Mike,_ you know?"

 

"Yeah, I know," Richie answered, trying not too sound too bitter.

 

He thought that  _yeah, it really fucking sucked,_ because he  _did know._  He understood. It didn't erase the point that it sucked though, because Will? Will deserved  _the entire fucking universe,_  or whatever bullshit all those poetic losers spew over and over that Richie was tired of hearing.

 

And this Mike guy? He wasn't even a star. He was just this...  _This fucking blackhole_  that sucked everything until it was distorted and ruined and never to be seen again. The same blackhole that kept on sucking the glimmer in Will's eyes or the light behind his smile.

 

And yet...  _Fuck, and yet,_ Will looked at him like he was made of twenty different kinds of constellations, and it hurt just by looking at it because  _this?_  This was fucking tragedy, and Richie knew it when he saw one.

 

He knew he wasn't lying when he thought this was the worst one yet.

 

And later on, that night, while Will was fast asleep on his bed and Richie was covered in his sleeping bag, staring at the little artificial glowing stars at the ceiling, he wondered about how it would have felt to be Mike Wheeler. He already got the face value after all. It just... It wasn't fair, he thought. How Mike could just simply exist, and Will would still look at him as if he hung the fucking sun and the moon. How in another perspective, Richie was taking Will's place and the Byers kid taking Mike's.

 

It fucking stung, like being skinned alive and forced to roll on hot sand after. Like eating shards of glasses that came from the shattered pieces of your heart. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but he loved it.  _God, he fucking loved it._

 

And that same night, he may or may not have understood Will better, and he didn't know if that was a good thing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Richie Tozier meeting Jane Hopper was something Will was more grateful for (the night at the arcade still haunted him sometimes, and he wondered if it had ever even been worth it). It turned out well.

 

Richie liked Jane, so as he liked Max and Richie told him Max reminded him of a friend back in Derry.

 

And see, this was where Will would think again -  _it wasn't about luck._  Him meeting Richie, Richie being this huge gust of wind that turned his life weirder than it already was, and Richie just fitting in the group... It was all supposed to happen.

 

"Do you want to come over later?" Will asked Richie as they walked out of their class, to meet the party at the cafeteria. "My mom said I should invite you for dinner."

 

"Shucks, Mrs. B misses me already?" Richie told him in a cheesy voice, batting his eyelashes. "Why, I'm flattered, Willy Billy."

 

"Shut up," Will chuckled, bumping shoulders with him (despite the height differences).

 

"Of course," Richie grinned, eyes crinkling at the sides. "I'll be there at six."

 

"Great."

 

And you see, Richie was... He was  _something else._ He wasn't Mike, obviously, far from him actually. He was loud and obnoxious and not everyone really got the idea of his humour, but Will loved him for it. After all, Will had his fair share of peculiarities too, and somehow, that was enough.

 

It was enough to keep their bond growing.

 

As much as Will hated it, Richie and Mike still hadn't gotten along well. Richie, still all sarcasm and satire, just seemed to bring out the worst in Mike Wheeler, and Will was more than upset, to say the least.

 

"Hey, Will," Mike said during their lunch, the subtle glares on Richie's way wasn't hard to miss. "Do you want to come over later? I have this new collection of comic books you might like. My mom got it for me over the weekend."

 

"I, um," Will stammered, until Richie cut him to it with an, "Of course! We'd love to. Right, William?"

 

Will looked at Richie incredulously.

 

" _What? No,_ " Mike exclaimed, looking exasperated. "What, are you his bodyguard now?"

 

"No, but I'm coming either way," Richie shrugged, looking at Mike smugly. "Besides, we won't be for too long. Mrs. B would be expecting us for dinner anyway."

 

"Richie," Will warned, before letting out a deep sigh. "Mike, I'm - maybe next time? We'll be having dinner at my place."

 

"Oh, okay," Mike replied glumly.

 

"Sorry."

 

"It's fine," Mike shrugged. "But you'll be coming over tomorrow, right?" The tone of his voice practically saying he meant  _Will and only Will._

 

"Yes," Will said, smiling softly at him.

 

Maybe this was the point where he would have to remind himself to thread carefully. The point where he had to remember the line he had to not cross over. The same line that tripped him thousands of times before, not minding the red bruises it marked his knees.

 

Maybe this was where he had to tell himself that Richie Tozier was gripping his hands so tight, beside him, all quiet and somber all of a sudden.

 

Maybe Will was the one stupid after all, not Mike.

 

Maybe,  _just maybe,_  Richie could help him. Help him in a way others couldn't. Help him in a way Mike couldn't. And that was unfair, he knew, but Richie was willing to play the part.

 

Richie wanted this too.

 

 

°°°

 

 

_"I don't like Richie."_

 

Will almost laughed at Mike's confession, remembering the exact same time Richie told him something alike. He wondered if the two thought alike, too, and if that was good idea or not.   

 

"Why not?" Will asked, looking at him from the floor of Mike's bedroom where he was currently scribbling things at.

 

The coming over turned to sleep over and surprisingly, Joyce  _and Richie_  allowed him, which was something he should be grateful for, he guessed.

 

"I don't know, he's just... too loud and  _too rough_ ," Mike replied, shaking his head a little. He flopped himself on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he said, "I don't get him. I don't know why you're hanging out with him."

 

"He's my friend, Mike."

 

"I know, and that's why it sucks, right?" Mike sighed, sulking like an eight year old. "You're friends so I can't exactly hate him, and even Dustin and Lucas like him. I can't do  _anything_  about it."

 

"Why don't you talk to him?" Will offered.

 

"No way, I'd  _never_ ," Mike said almost instantly, prrssing his lips into a thin line. "It just... It just sucks, I guess."

 

Will kept quiet, frowning a little, as he thought about it. He couldn't just exactly leave Richie for Mike, you know? And it goes the other way around too. Yeah, Mike was right, it probably sucked.

 

"Do you like him?" Mike's question startled him, making him grip the crayon he was holding tightly, causing it to break.

 

"I, um, I don't..."

 

"It's fine, you can talk to me," Mike sat upright on his bed, looking at Will sincerely. "I'm serious."

 

"I'm," Will stuttered, before sighing, because, really, what was the point? "I mean, I don't know. I guess? It's hard to explain. He's just... Richie, you know?"

 

"So, you like him?" Mike asked again, looking at Will expectantly. "The same way I like Jane?"

 

 _Oh_.

 

Will swallowed audibly at the ache tugging in his chest, but he rapidly brushed it off, shrugging, "I think so? I mean I'm not yet... there. He's my friend, s'all."

 

"Okay," Mike said cautiously, looking at Will. "I just don't want him to hurt you."

 

 _"He won't,"_  Will reassured him quickly.

 

"I hope so."

 

And hey, Will hoped so, too. He had been traveling in circles, hoping for one person to walk around it with him it for so long. He had been carrying false hopes in his baggage for so long. 

 

He wouldn't mind adding another one.

 

 

* * *

 

Richie Tozier couldn't help but talk about Mike Wheeler a lot he might as well be  _obsessed_  with him. But that was beside the point, all right? His doppelganger just  _really_  annoyed the shit out of him, and that was an enough excuse, he supposed .

 

Especially when it came to Will Byers, so to be fair, he couldn't be blamed.

 

"You do know Will likes you, right?" Mike had told him one night during an interrupted game of Dungeons & Dragons, while the others decided to go off to the nearest ice cream parlour and Richie offered to stay. Mike, of course, stayed as well, all because of 'not trusting Richie in his basement'.

 

Richie's opinion about Mike being an asshole still standed.

 

"Whoa, is that the ever loving Michael Wheeler speaking to me?" Richie feigned shock, eyes widening to emphasise his mockery. "This calls for a celebration."

 

"Just shut up and listen for once!" Mike yelled, his outburst startling Richie just a little.  _What the fuck._

 

"What the fuck," Richie whispered. 

 

"Look," Mike started again after a few seconds of uncomfortable stares and silence, looking at Richie seriously. "Will likes you, okay? And I don't want him to get hurt."

 

Richie had to scoff sarcastically at that.

 

Because Mike Wheeler was a fucking  _idiot_ , and a big one at that. Richie wished he had an excuse to punch him in the face  _right now_ , just once. It would really satisfy him a lot.

 

"Are you shitting me right now,  _Wheela_?"

 

" _What?_ "

 

"William likes you, asshole." Richie snapped angrily, voice rising dangerously, and later on, he would have to regret it and think of ten different ways to explain to Will why he told Mike their secret. "And it fucking sucks because you're too infatuated with your girlfriend to even see that. You suck as a best friend, and you know what? Will doesn't deserve that."

 

Mike stared at him, wide eyed.

 

And hey, Richie couldn't blame him because this wasn't like Richie at all. Hell, even Richie couldn't recognize himself.

 

What the fuck was going on? 

 

They spent an entire minute staring at each other like that, and Richie wondered if he looked just like Mike right now, with confusion and surprise painted on his face. He couldn't help but wish for a better reflection.  

 

The other party members arrived, looking at them, confused, until Dustin broke the silence with an, "Um, are you guys fine?"

 

No, Richie wasn't fucking fine.

 

Richie had to excuse himself that night, ignoring the hurt and perplexed look Will was giving him, and went out of the Wheeler's residence as fast as his feet could muster. 

 

For the first time in years, he found comfort in his own home.

 

°°°

 

 

_"Stop ignoring him, asshole."_

 

Richie sighed from where he was sitting on the floor behind the bleachers, too tired to even look up and find out who the voice belonged to. It was pretty easy, though, and he knew right away it was Max Mayfield looking at him in distaste.

 

"What do you want, ginger?" Richie sighed, removing his glass and folding it, placing it beside him. "I'm not in the mood."

 

"I'm talking about Will."

 

"What about him?"

 

Richie knew what was about him.

 

Since that night at the Wheeler's place, Richie was too ashamed to even show his face in front of everyone, especially Will. He knew Will was mad at him, and fuck Mike for that, really. He lost his little epinephrine because of one goddamned mistake which is Michael Wheeler.

 

"Why aren't you talking to him?" Max yelled angrily, voice rising with every word spoken. "He keeps on thinking he did something wrong - he's beating himself for it, while you're here doing God knows what and just being a coward."

 

Richie sighed again.

 

"Look here,  _Maxy_ ," Richie started, not even letting Max protest about the nickname. "I did a terrible mistake, all right? And Will may or may not be mad at me but the bottom line here is... I don't know what the fuck you're so loud for."

 

Max's eyes widened in fury.

 

"Just stop being an asshole for one second and talk to him!"

 

"He doesn't need me, okay?" Richie snarled, making Max step back a little. He took his glasses beside him and placed it inside his pocket, standing up and looking straight at Max as he continued, "This?" He pointed to himself. "This is not what he needed. He wants Mike, then let him go to Mike,  _for fuck's sake_. I can't force him to do shit if he doesn't want to, okay? And all of you should stop doing it too."

 

Max was too shocked to even say something.

 

But Richie wasn't done yet.

 

"I can't - fuck, I can't keep on pretending, all right?" He scoffed bitterly. " _I'm not Mike Wheeler_." He finished, before putting his glasses back on, as if proving a point.

 

It just wasn't fair.

 

What did Mike Wheeler had that he didn't anyway?

 

Glancing at Max for the last time, he left the gymnasium with a heavy heart, hoping he'd be able to avoid William Byers for the rest of the day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, he wished his brother Jonathan was still here. It would've been a lot easier, and maybe dealing with confusion and heartbreak wouldn't be this stressful. He could make Will a mixtape of his favourite songs, or listen to Will's stories all night long about comics and music and dramas.

 

He missed Jonathan a lot, but he knew Jonathan was happy in NYU now. 

 

He tried not to be too bitter about it - he was really happy for Jonathan, after all - but it still kind of sucked.

 

He missed Richie, too, of course. His foul mouthed friend still hadn't talked to him since that D & D night at the Wheeler's residence and quite honestly, Will still didn't know what he did wrong. He supposed it hurt him more than it should. 

 

Even Mike was acting weird around him. He kept on asking Will if he had talked to Richie yet and the fact that Mike even thought of his clone was already weird enough.

 

So, yeah. He wished Jonathan was still here.

 

"Sweetie, why haven't you invited Richie over for days?" His mom asked him during dinner, looking at him, worried. "Are you well?"

 

"Actually," Will started slowly, biting his lip. "I was planning to come over at his place now. Would that be all right?"

 

Joyce looked at him skeptically.

 

"It's fine if you won't let me," Will hurriedly added, looking at his mom reassuringly.

 

"I mean, it's too dangerous, honey," Joyce said, almost apologetically, to her son. "I'm just really worried, you know that, right?"

 

"I know." Will nodded. He understood. 

 

Joyce looked at her son calculatingly, for a minute or two, before letting out a soft sigh, saying, "Okay, you can go tonight."

 

Will's eyes widened in delight.

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes," Joyce smiled warmly, before seriously adding, " _but,_ you have to promise to be  _very_  careful, okay?"

 

"I promise."

 

Joyce wrapped her arms around Will, and Will almost cried right then. It felt too good, too comforting, and he didn't knew he needed that embrace until now.

 

He wondered if his mom could see right through him, and thought of how terrifying that was. He wondered if she knew how ruined he was right now, perhaps why she was trying her best to mend and stitch him back.

 

He just hoped her thread was strong enough to keep him fixed.

 

 

°°°

 

 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" was the first thing Will Byers heard upon seeing Richie Tozier face after a few weeks of avoidance and distress.

 

He could pretend it didn't sting just a little.

 

"Jesus, do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here, Byers?" Richie scolded, although the affection and worry could be heard in his voice. "Come in before you freeze your ass to death."

 

So, he did.

 

The moment he entered the Tozier's house, Richie quickly engulfed him into a tight embrace, and that was when the tears actually started to come. He had scenes laid out inside his head the moment he was cycling his way to the Tozier's residence but this? This was something unexpected. 

 

"I'm sorry," Will rasped out, sobbing into Richie's chest uncontrollably. "I don't know what I did, but  _I'm sorry."_

 

He felt Richie tightened the embrace.

 

He felt really bad for himself - bawling his eyes out in front of the guy who actually managed to ignore him for weeks, apologising for something he wasn't even aware of doing. He felt pathetic.

 

But somehow, it felt better than how he was weeks earlier.

 

"You're killing me here," he heard Richie mutter as he brushed his fingers on Will's hair. "You have no idea what you're doing, Byers."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

" _I'm sorry,_ " Richie said too, pressing a kiss on Will's head. "Sorry, Billiam, really."

 

And that was enough for Will, you know?

 

He got Richie back, or so he thought.

 

They stayed like there for a while, with Richie's arms wrapped around him as he muttered reassuring words that sounded just fine for Will. This was enough.

 

"Are you going to tell me why you were suddenly gone for weeks?" Will said through the hiccups, looking up to see Richie's solemn face. He didn't think he would ever get used to this - the loud and obnoxious Richie etched on his head - but he liked it either way.

 

"No."

 

"Okay."

 

"Do you want to sleep over?" Richie asked, pulling away just a little to grin at Will. "I'll make sure to keep my hands to myself."

 

Will laughed.

 

He missed this Richie. He just  _really, really_  missed Richie as a whole.

 

"Okay," Will replied, wiping the remnants of tears away with his fist. "You're glad my mom loves you."

 

"Who can resist my charm?"

 

And really, Will was just thankful -  _so, so thankful_  - because this might not be Mike Wheeler, but it was something better than what he could've asked for.

 

He didn't think he'd be having the best any time soon.

 

And maybe, just maybe, Richie was right. That life was just a whole carnival of luck -  _survival of the luckiest -_  and that you had to fight your way to make it through life. You had to fight that one thing that would help you make it through, that would make you stronger.

 

And Will thought he might just had found his luck.


End file.
